Dodging Cthulhu

Today, Friday, May 15, 2009,  you may have awakened to a new reality.   Sure, the bacon sandwich you routinely clog your arteries with is still on the table.  As is the strongest coffee ever to be brewed on Planet Earth (Columbia 1  Gut 0).  And your dog has obediently peed on the carefully laid-out copy of your still-barely-hanging-in-there local newspaper.

No, everything looks to be normal today, but it isn't.  Not if you are an owner of a Chrysler-built vehicle (Dodge, Chrysler, Jeep, and Plymouth) and have a dealership you've come to trust and view as an important part of Life As You Know It.  If you had read that newspaper you might have gotten a clue as to your new predicament.

As you blithely gnaw on the last morsel of crusty bacon and slurp the last acid drop of coffee, you may be thinking that this weekend it might be wise to take the Dodge down for an oil change and have that odd noise diagnosed.  Little do you know that this might be the last time those thoughts form quite the same way in your overworked cranium.  You see, 'taking the Dodge down' will have a new meaning on Monday, and for every day thereafter.  

That place you bought your car, let's call it 'Arkham Dodge', has just received a letter from Chrysler.  The general manager - let's call him 'HP' has opened it and read the note from the corporate suit - let's call him 'Mr. Cthulhu' -  telling him that Arkham has been dropped as an authorized dealer.  Now HP has to tell his employees that their job-days are numbered and by the way, Have a Good Weekend.

HP and a skeleton staff may keep on keeping on for a while at Arkham, but soon you will need to take your Dodge elsewhere for factory service.  And if the old girl needs replacing with something brand new, you won't be able to get it from HP. 

But that's OK, there's another authorized dealer over in the next county.  About a half-hour's drive away.  Here's hoping they didn't (and won't) get any messages from Cthulhu...